


The Witcher and the Wolf

by whitewolfcub



Category: Once and Future King Series - T. H. White, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitewolfcub/pseuds/whitewolfcub
Summary: Takes place after the Tower of the Swallow. Ciri has been residing with Elaine since the rapture of Galahad, and is met with a most interesting employment oppurtunity.





	The Witcher and the Wolf

It came to pass that while Ciri was staying with Elaine, news began to spread about a menace lurking deep within Sherwood. An old widow dwelt alone on the fringes of the forest, where her woodcutter husband had built their cottage nearly half a century before. After his death, she refused to move closer to civilization, maintaining that in all the time she’d spent there with her husband, nothing had come up that they were unable to handle, and she was extremely doubtful that anything would crop up now simply because she was there by herself. Still, her daughter insisted on checking on her regularly, often sending her own daughter with baskets of baked goods to look in on her and confirm that nothing terrible had taken place. 

However, the daughter had failed to return from her previous visit. The mother, desolate, had gone out after her and failed to return as well. Pleasant and genial, the mother’s absence was noted almost immediately, and it wasn’t long before Ciri was approached.

She had been almost desperate to get out of the castle, so she and Elaine had gone to a small tavern for a pint. Elaine had insisted upon her embroidery, and so she sat sewing while Ciri nursed a beer and entertained herself by making increasingly ugly faces at people staring at her. At least when Galahad had been present they hadn’t had the audacity to stare at her like this. Oh well. Apparently, in this world, having the misfortune to be a woman and be spotted spending any time near a body of water conferred all sorts of mystic powers and symbolism, even if, as in this case, the it was merely the symbol of one’s desire for cleanliness.

She was just considering going out back to relieve her bladder when one of the village men, long of years and short of hair, approached and stood awkwardly beside the table, clearing his throat meaningfully.

Sighing, she sat down her glass. “May I help you?”  
“Beggin your pardon, miss. I’ve been duly appointed, as it were, to make a request for you on behalf of the others.”

“Oh.” This was the first time any of them had ever spoken to her directly. Usually, they preferred to speak to whoever she was with, as if they were afraid to address her directly. 

“Not to go about spreading untruths, but, and I beg your forgiveness if this is not so, but there are stories about you. Stories in which you slay ferocious wyrms and demons. For a fee, of course.”

Smiling slightly, Ciri nodded. “And do you have a ferocious wyrm or demon that needs slaying? For a fee, of course?”

The man shifted uncomfortably. “You see, that’s the thing. We don’t know. A young lass, sent to check on her grandmother at the edge of Sherwood, has gone missing. Her mother as well. Not to label any of us here as cowards, but seeing as how, if the stories are true, you’re a trained professional and whatnot…” he petered off slowly.

Elaine chimed in for the first time. “You know, Ciri, it might be good for you to get out of the castle for a bit. I know you’ve been feeling a bit cooped up, bless your heart.”  
She considered for a moment. As fond as she was of Elaine, the old woman was right. She was growing bored, and Kelpie had to be bored as well. 

“You know what? I’ll go see what there is to see. For a fee, of course.”

The villager smiled gruffly. “Of course! We’re quite fond of Helen and her girls, and just for our own peace of mind, if you could go look in on them and make sure nothing untoward has taken place.”

The next morning, Ciri saddled Kelpie and headed for Sherwood. It felt good to be outside and breath the fresh air. As they went, birds sang within the trees and the sun shone down. However, once they drew near to the forest, clouds appeared and blocked out the sun’s rays, and it began to look like rain. The birdsong ceased completely once the cottage came into view. Though from the outside, everything appeared peaceful, something caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. She dismounted quickly, tying Kelpie by her reins to a nearby tree. Drawing Zirael, she crept toward the cottage, and instead of knocking, crouched beneath a window and peered inside.

Her glance was met by an enormous glowing green eye. Winking, it disappeared. She drew back. Something was in there. Something inhuman. She opened the door, stepping back instantly in case it came charging out at her. Nothing emerged, however. Something told her the women inside were most certainly dead, a fact that was more or less confirmed when the beast inside began emanating a low, constant growl, like a large dog. If she knew for certain that the women inside were dead, or at least not within the cottage, she would have set the whole thing ablaze and driven the beast out in the open. However, she was not trying to introduce Gramarye to Falka quite yet, and something told her that murdering a family of innocent women in pursuit of a monster would not go over well with these people. So, with the intention of hopefully mitigating as much bloodshed as possible, she entered the cottage.

Towering above her, reaching to the ceiling and enveloping her entire world, was the largest wolf she had ever seen, if it could even be called a wolf. It stood on its hind legs, crouched slightly because otherwise it’s head would have smacked the rafters. Fortunately, the women were nowhere to be seen, but now she was definitely certain they’d been eaten. That was the only observation she had time to make before the wolf swiped it’s enormous talons at her, nearly decapitating her. Luckily, her witcher reflexes saved her, but she took note of its speed. As Geralt would have said, “Fuck.”

She swung Zirael towards the wolf’s exposed genitalia, castrating it. The monster emitted a human-life bellow of rage, snapping its jaws around the air that she had previously inhabited prior to teleporting behind it and jumping onto its back, where she slit its throat from behind. However, it refused to go down, and reaching around behind, it seized her and tore her from its back, tossing her across the room like a rag doll. Suddenly, an idea struck her.   
She teleported herself into the belly of the beast.

She had a mere matter of seconds before she suffocated, but within those seconds, hot and tight and sticky and red, she could feel the beast’s contortions of agony as it writhed at the sudden intrusion of an entire adult human being into its stomach. However, it did not suffer overlong as she tore her way out using Zirael. 

Like a newborn she emerged from the visceral gore of entrails and stomach bile, gasping for breath. Coughing, she ran outside and vomited, several times, before propping herself up again the tree she tied Kelpie to. 

“Well,” she informed the horse, “that was certainly something.”   
She was preparing to make her way back into town to discuss the fee with the townsman when she stopped and considered something for a moment, before making her way back into the cottage.

She arrived home later that evening, a bloody spector carrying a giant wolfskin. Elaine was absolutely horrified, but, she could tell, extremely proud, and very relieved that none of the blood was Ciri’s. As for the townspeople, once she presented the gigantic fur, they understood very quickly that Helen and her daughter and granddaughter as well were most likely a lost cause, and with little hesitation paid a reasonable fee indeed. And in this way, Gramarye came to have its first ever professional witcher, and Ciri came to have a gigantic fur cape, of the softest, warmest black fur. It was to serve her well in the years and adventures to come.


End file.
